Broken Lyric
by Rainbow Daydreamer
Summary: So many broken threads. So many seemingly separate little lives, with their triumphs and tragedies. One human girl connects them all, and she is not who any of them think she is. The start of something much longer.
1. Broken Melody

_So, a new departure for me. This is hopefully the start of a much longer work, with shifting POV and a fair amount of originality. As such, I would love comments either positive or negative. I think this initial story stands on its own..._

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**Broken Lyric:  
Broken Dreams**

It was a dark, grey morning on the outskirts of Neopia Central. I drained the last of my coffee from the mug, wondering even now if what I was doing wasn't wrong.

"Dazzledawn," I called up the stairs again. "Come on. It's nearly nine o'clock."

"You're mean." My Uni's hooves clattered on the landing as she headed downstairs. "I wanted to sleep some more. School doesn't start until ten on Thursdays."

"No excuses, Dazzledawn." I used her full name again, something I had only used to do when she was in trouble. I wondered if she could detect that something was wrong. "Come down here."

"I'm coming, Lyric." With a yawn, she jumped off the bottom stair and dragged her hooves to the kitchen table. "You OK? You look kind of grouchy. What's for breakfast?"

"This." Without looking at her, I pushed a plate across the table. "You'd better eat all of it."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dazzle sniff at the cold omelette I'd just put down. It wasn't the Neocrunch she'd been used to getting from me. Over the last few days, as the plan of what I was going to do had become clearer in my mind, I'd quit spoiling her in a variety of ways, but the cheerful breakfasts before school had been the last to go. With a slightly startled expression, she chewed her omelette in silence and drank the glass of water I'd set at her place.

"You have to sign my school planner," she told me. "There's a note in it about the trip next Tuesday. We're going to Shenkuu."

Tuesday. I counted in my head. Five days from now. Perhaps, if she was very lucky, it would work out that she could go after all. The chances were against it.

"You're not going to school today, Dazzledawn," I said, keeping my voice flat. I had no intention of giving her the impression she was receiving some kind of treat. I owed her that much. "We're too busy. Get your breakfast finished, we're going out."

While Dazzle toyed with her scarf in front of the hall mirror, I entered our bedroom, my oldest bag slung over one arm. The bag was big enough for a few of the toys she actually took an interest in, and I felt we should take them with us. The fur brush landed on top of her favourite Fuzzle with a dull clatter. I slipped Dazzle's lucky shoe into the pocket of my jeans, taking care not to let it fall as I bent down to fasten up the bag.

The rain started just as we were leaving the house. Dazzle wrinkled her nose, but she didn't say anything. We headed past the school gates and towards the centre of the city.

_Lyric without a melody. Song without a tune. Who will I become?_

The words echoed in my head, a flash of emotion that I did my best to ignore. Now was no time for such feelings.

"Lyric?" Dazzle paused, flicking a wet leaf from her mane. "Can I go and stay over at Neill's house for a few days? He says I can."

I hesitated. "This is sudden, Dazzledawn. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know…" She shifted her hooves, a little uneasy. "I think it'd be nice if we got to do our own stuff for a bit. You know, I could make ice cream sandwiches and play Godori and braid my mane and you could…" She trailed off. Evidently, she was stuck for ideas of what I would do without her. "Knit socks. Or something. I think we could do with the space."

"Space. Yeah." I took a deep breath of the rain-filled air. "Dazzledawn, there's something I have to tell you."

"We're moving house?" she guessed. I knew she had wanted a room of her own for a long time, but my expression checked her, and the smile vanished before it had begun. "Lyric, what is it?"

"You must have noticed that we just haven't been getting along lately." That was a half-truth. Dazzle had continued with her happy life as easily as night following day, while my mind had become clouded. "The truth is… Dazzledawn, I just can't say that I like you any more."

"You don't like me?" She almost laughed. "Lyric, if I've been misbehaving, you can tell me off like normal. You don't have to try and act like my best friend. You're my _owner_. Just tell me what I did wrong."

"I don't know where to begin." I studied her with ice-cold eyes, watching the half-smile that pleaded with me to tell her what she could mend, what she could change. "You're always late for school. I've read you dozens of books, but if I ask you the simplest question, you giggle and shuffle your hooves like some airheaded Usul. You've used up all my savings on treats and games and that Spotted Paintbrush, and never once thought if I'd like to do anything for myself. You stay up late and eat all the ice cream in the house. You—"

"Lyric, why didn't you tell me this before?" Dazzle gazed at me puzzledly. "I can change, you know. You don't have to be upset."

"It's too late for that, Dazzledawn." I sighed. "I've tried to put up with you for this long, but it just isn't working. It isn't enough for you to change. You can't be someone totally different from who you are."

"Then what's the point in telling me all this?" Her voice had started to tremble. "Lyric… you wouldn't tell me I'm a bad pet just to be cruel, would you? Why tell me, if I can't change?"

"So you'll understand," I said quietly, tossing the bag across for her to catch. "We're here."

My Uni's eyes turned to the contents of the bag, then to the building opposite us, and back to me. For a moment, she stood speechless as she suddenly realised what I had been trying to tell her.

"L-Lyric, you wouldn't!" The words came out in a breathless rush. "Lyric, you're my owner! I _love _you!"

"This morning you told me I was mean," I pointed out, scrabbling for Neopoints in my pocket. "Now you're telling me you love me because you think it'll change my mind? I told you, I don't _like _you, Dazzledawn—"

"Dazzle. Dazzle." She was in tears now, hammering her hooves against the wet pavement. "My name is Dazzle. You can't be the real Lyric. She would know not to call me by my full name."

"This isn't some kind of Neopian Times story, Dazzledawn." Her foolish hope just frustrated me further. "Nobody's impersonating me. I am the real Lyric, and…" With a sigh, I pushed open the damp-swelled wooden door. "I've changed."

The Techo doctor was on duty at the desk. One small comfort, at least. He'd seen this scene a thousand times before. As Dazzle struggled, trying to run for the door, he held her back with one claw while the other scratched a few words in ink-bleeding biro. "Dazzledawn. Spotted female Uni, no Petpet. Old owner, Lyricalised. Reason for disownment…?"

I gave a careless shrug. "We just don't suit each other any more. I'm fed up with trying."

"Very well." The sound of the rubber stamp slamming down on the disownment form echoed like a funeral bell. "Two hundred and fifty Neopoints' upkeep fee. Everything seems to be in order. This Uni is now under the care of the Neopian Pound and no longer your responsibility."

"Lyric, Lyric." Dazzle kept calling for me even as she was led away, tears streaming down her face. I could hear Dr. Death attempting to offer what comfort he could, talking about kind adopters, new friends, his colleague Rosie who was a Uni herself. She stayed inconsolable, the stereotype of an abandoned pet to the end.

I slammed the door of the Pound behind me. The pets nearby were busy with selling and buying, painting and speculating. No-one paid me much attention as I slipped through the maze of alleyways behind the shops and out onto the quietest path I could find.

The rain was harder now, soaking me to the skin. I shook the worst of it from my sleeves and raised my eyes to the grey sky.

"I've done it," I said softly. "I've abandoned her."

_Glad to hear it. You've taken long enough since we last spoke._

"You told me she was the one," I snapped, clenching my fists tightly. "You said it was over. I used my real name, you know. She wasn't another foster project. I had a real life this time."

_No. You had a normal life. This is your real life._

I could feel the winds whipping my hair off my face. For a moment, I closed my eyes to keep off the sting of the rain. When I opened them again, my hair was still straight and swept by the wind, but a few strands lay at my feet, sliced to brutally shorten what was left. Already what remained was turning from caramel brown to black, scorched dark in a moment's time.

"Will I ever see her again?" The question was quick and unsubtle, but I was in no mood for games.

_The Uni will find a new owner_, came the response, casual and efficient as ever. _You did a good job. With her Spotted coat and attractive manner she will have no trouble being adopted quickly. You need not worry about her._

"Worry about her…" The laugh that escaped my lips was half a sob. "What about me?"

_Your name is Charmeir. You are nineteen years old, and a Neopian for six months. Your pet, a Darigan Zafara, before he flew away to Mystery Island and left you alone, spoke of a sister. That is the pet you are trying to find._

"No." I had been misunderstood once more, and it hurt. "I don't mean my story. What about _me_? Who am I without Dazzle?"

_You are one of ours, Charmeir._ The answer was not unkind. _You are one of the only ones to know what is actually happening in Neopia at this moment. We know you will not let us down._

No. I wouldn't let them down, it was true. This was far more important than me, than Dazzle, than Kera or Liss or Lucky Angel or Trinye or any of the others. I had lost so much for this already, whispered the voice in my head. To carry on would only be a little more pain. Only a little.

_Charmeir?_

I took off my jacket absently, laying it on the pavement next to the last few clippings of my hair. "All right. I'm coming."

Somewhere, the autumn rain was scattering on the roof of an empty Neohome that would never be lived in again. Somewhere, the ornament I'd tried to sculpt for Dazzle's room would never be completed. The jacket I'd cast off lay behind me on the wet ground, darkening as the rain continued to pour.

Lyric was dead.


	2. Broken Threads

**Broken Lyric:  
Broken Threads**

_**Matt**_

According to the file in the Hall of Records above the Lenny Library, there were fifty-one freelance detectives within a hundred-mile radius of Neopia Central. And after I quit, without too much reluctance, my job as day care assistant to a dozen screaming baby Usuls, I had handed in my registration as the fifty-second. As if being taken seriously as a male Pink Xweetok wasn't difficult enough, I had to convince the citizens of Neopia's largest city that I was intelligent and intuitive enough to solve their problems.

Hanna found it funny, of course. She was bound to. If the world is ever reduced to flaming rubble and we are the last two Neopians left on it, my owner will be laughing at the dots of smoky ash making us both look like Spotted Gelerts. I took the liberty of landing her with the rent payments for my new office, since she can't help but see the bright side sooner or later.

It was mid-morning, and I was back at my office for a well-deserved lemon smoothie. Hanna said that real detectives should drink black coffee, but I've never been able to stand the stuff. The missing Puppyblew of the morning had been located two gardens from home and returned to a tearful Cybunny, who'd expressed her gratitude in the form of a home-made lunch. Petpet searches and peanut butter sandwiches. It wasn't the life of glamour and excitement I'd expected when I first decided to become a detective.

I glanced down at the notes that Lucky Angel had left for me. To say that the pretty little Hallowe'en Aisha was my assistant was admittedly pushing it somewhat—she worked in the room next door, and was kind enough to take messages for me while I was out. There seemed to be one assignment in the pile, with a scribbled username I couldn't quite make out. Charlotte? No, that scratch of the pen could never have been a T.

"If you're quite finished?"

The voice wasn't Lucky Angel's. I jumped out of my seat, lifting my head to see who had spoken.

A stunningly beautiful Faerie Nimmo stood in front of my desk, her arms folded. Even as I struggled to get my breath back, my eyes were drawn to her shimmering dress, violet silk that swept the ground at her feet. Clearly, this was the richest client I'd had yet.

"Good morning," I managed. "How may I be of assistance?"

"I need you to find someone for me," the Nimmo said bluntly, fixing me with a stare that could have cut through ice. "There will be compensation."

"Of course, I'll do my best to…" I hesitated as my brain caught up with my ears. "Someone? Not a Petpet? Another Neopet?"

She shook her head. "A human. I have all the details available in this notebook." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a slim book and set it open on the desk. "Of course, if finding stray Neopets and Petpets is more your line, I can go elsewhere."

"No!" I squeaked. "I mean, no, that will be fine. Although—" I glanced down at the previous assignment I'd been left— "I think you ought to know that—"

"I hope," the Nimmo interrupted, "that you realise I expect this assignment to take priority over your other tasks."

I nodded dumbly. She obviously wasn't in the mood for questions. Lifting the notebook off the desk, I shoved the message (Charlene? Chariot?) under a stack of papers.

As she left the room with a swish of silk, I read the name again.

_Lyricalised._

*

When most Neopians think about the life of a private detective, they imagine listening at keyholes for critical information, or being invited out to fancy restaurants in disguise. A night at the Hotel Opera, squinting at rich Neopets through a false monocle, would certainly be more interesting than what I inevitably end up doing in reality, which is browsing the archives at the Hall of Records.

"Do _not_ touch the records previous to 20 BN," the Head Lenny snapped with a slight clack of his beak. "If you need something, our staff will be _happy _to find it for you." While I couldn't imagine the surly librarians being happy about anything much, it wasn't the pre-Neopia Central records that I wanted this time. I was interested in something a lot more recent.

Lyricalised's name didn't show up on the current edition of the census. That _ought _to mean that there was no such person, but I had my doubts. Hadn't there been that one case in the news a few years ago-- what was it, a Darigan Kougra or something? You could disappear from the census, although TNT didn't like the news to get around. It wouldn't necessarily take a Faerie to do it, either.

Year Eleven. Year Ten. Year Nine. I flicked through the books one after another, coming up with a blank every time. Already I was beginning to wonder if that Nimmo was deliberately wasting my time. She had better pay well.

As I opened the next census volume and flipped through to the Ls, I realised I'd taken the wrong book off the shelf. I had it in my paw to put back when I noticed what was on the page I'd stopped at.

The notebook the Nimmo had given me had an approximate date of Year Nine scribbled in it. But this census was from as far back as Year Five, back when I'd still been attending school. Still, here it was.

A young human girl gazed innocently at me from her photograph, a Feloreena sitting happily on her lap. There were no Neopets with her, and she couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen, at my guess. The picture had faded a little, but I could make out brown hair the colour of warm toffee, and a bright, kind smile that looked sincere.

_Lyricalised_

_Arrived in Neopia: 15__th__ of Running, Year Five_

_Neopets: None_

"She exists!" I slammed my paw down on the desk, and became aware of the librarian staring pointedly at me. "Oops. Sorry. I'll keep it down."

"You had better."

I pulled the package of tracing paper from my pocket, and checked to make sure the Lenny had gone back to his work. Picking out the lines and shadows of the photograph in blunt pencil, I managed to create an approximation of the teenager's face.

So, Lyricalised existed. Or, at least, had existed. It wasn't as if there weren't plenty of newbies who appeared briefly, decided that owning a Neopet wasn't for them, and faded quietly back into obscurity. But the fact that she was being asked about after all these years suggested that someone, somewhere, had a reason to care about her. And I had to wonder what that reason was.

*

Looking for a human is a tricky process, I found out quite quickly. If you're on the hunt for a missing Neopet, they probably won't have changed in however many years they've been gone. (Unless, of course, they've become a lab permie in the meantime. Remind me to tell you about that case someday.) Neopets grow in size, it's true, but humans mature in all sorts of unlikely ways.

"She'd look prettier in buckle shoes, Matt."

Hanna leaned over the table, sprawled out in front of me. I'd spent half an hour drawing, with her occasional input and advice. The picture beneath my paws was finally taking shape. A woman in her early twenties, brown-haired and bright-eyed, with a more adult but equally genuine smile. The kind of person Lyricalised would be, if she was still around.

"Right." I picked up the drawing. "I'm off out again. Don't bother about dinner, I'll get something when I come home."

"Again?" Hanna looked surprised. "It's getting a bit late, Matt. Wouldn't you rather leave it until tomorrow?"

"I wish." I sighed. "But if you'd met my new client, you'd be trying to get her off your hands too. She looks like she's ready to bite my head off."

"Well, then, don't put the house keys in your hat," was Hanna's parting remark as I left the house. "You've got the only set."

*

Neopia Central was full of shopkeepers shutting up for the night, and young pets walking home from after-school classes. I found a spot in the centre of town and set up the picture on an easel next to me. Pretending to be a street artist, I worked on the colours as people passed by.

The reactions were predictable: approving, but noncommittal. Perhaps I was barking up the wrong tree after all.

"Oh, that's so pretty! Hey, isn't that Dazzle's mom?"

I turned around. A little Bori with ribbons on her ears was looking up at the picture. Slowly, very slowly, I knelt down until my face was level with hers. "You recognise it?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "It is, isn't it? Dazzle's mom. She came to our school on Owner's Night."

Dazzle. That had to be the name of a Neopet, I reasoned. A new lead. The Lyricalised in the census hadn't had any pets, but that had been years ago…

"I was wanting to deliver this picture, but I can't remember where she lives," I improvised. "You must have been over to Dazzle's house, right? Do you know?"

"Um…" The Bori sucked her paw. "I'll ask my owner, okay? Come back tomorrow! I'll wait here for you."

I barely had time to thank her as she ran off. She probably had to be home before night fell. Waiting until tomorrow wasn't ideal, but I was grateful just to have a lead. The idea of setting myself up as an artist had paid off.

Packing up the easel, I scooped up my hat from where it had fallen on the pavement, and was somewhat surprised to find it full of Neopoint coins. Maybe I have another vocation for backup if the detective thing turns out not to work out, after all.

*

"Is anybody home?"

I rattled the letterbox as politely as I could, and waited. This was the sixth house I'd tried on this street, after having no luck around the corner. The Bori's owner might have been kind, but precise she wasn't.

The door swung open, and a purple Ogrin stuck his head out at me. "If you're with Sharky Insurance, I told you, I'm not inter—"

"Official investigation," I said quickly, and gave him the briefest flash of my registration card. "Don't worry, you aren't in any trouble. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about one of your neighbours. Lyricalised?"

"Lyricalised?" The Ogrin blinked at me. "Oh… Lyric? Yes… yes, there was a girl by that name living next door. Her and her Neopet. A Uni, I think."

I nodded. "But she isn't there any more?"

"It's funny." A shake of his head. "One day she was there, the next she was gone. Been gone about a month now. I'd have thought she'd gone on holiday, but there's been no Neopian Times delivered since then, and it only comes once a week, so…"

"So you wouldn't think she'd cancel it just for a break," I finished. "Thanks for your help, sir. I'll call back later if there's anything else."

The door closed, and I heard the sound of hooves fade away. Taking a long breath, I threw one leg over the garden wall and dropped down in front of Lyric's house.

The house didn't have much of a security system, I could tell that from outside. I slotted one of Hanna's hairgrips into the lock and gave it a twist, not really expecting much success, and had a moment of surprise when I heard the _ker-click_.

If I'd been expecting an evil lair, a secret scientific lab or a ceiling-high stack of invisibility elixirs, I was disappointed. This Neohome was perfectly ordinary, quite obviously the home of someone who lived a normal life and simply wasn't here. The furniture around me was dusty, but cheerful, and there was a stack of clean dishes on the sink. I wandered through the house, looking for anything that might offer me a lead. There were a few gaps on shelves and in boxes that suggested someone had packed up some toys and grooming items. Well, okay. If Lyric and her pet had gone on holiday, it was logical to assume they would have taken a few home comforts with them.

At that point, I was ready to call it a day. There was an obvious explanation that tied up all the loose ends. Girl and pet had taken a holiday, perhaps in some exotic location like Mystery Island or the Lost Desert, and fallen so in love with the local scenery and customs that they'd decided to settle down and leave Neopia Central. I'd heard that with the new housing regulations, buying a home in a foreign country no longer cost a paw and a leg. It was a little strange that they hadn't sold their old house or told any of their neighbours, but then, there was no accounting for some people.

Then I saw the wastepaper basket.

Like everything in this house, it was nothing special. Just a simple litter bin that Lyric had evidently forgotten to empty before she went away, filled with papers. Envelopes.

Sealed envelopes.

I knew what I was doing was a breach of privacy, but I was already inside Lyric's house, without a key, looking around her private property. If I was caught, I reasoned, I could hardly get into _more _trouble than I would already be in. Picking up the envelopes, I slid a butter knife from the kitchen drawer under the flap of the first.

The letters were mostly impersonal ones. Neohome insurance bills, fundraising flyers from the Petpet Protection League, neighbourhood association newsletters, invoices from the larger shops. Not the sort of thing you would normally treasure, it was true. But to find that out, Lyric would have had to open them. Instead, they had all landed in the wastepaper basket in the same condition: sealed, addressed to Lyric, and untouched.

Turning over the envelopes again, I noticed that one of them had "FINAL DEMAND" written across it in red. For a moment, I entertained another theory: after losing her money on the Neodaq or some suchlike, Lyric had taken her pet and fled from an ever-growing list of creditors. But… no, the house was still full of ornaments, furniture and gadgets, even the latest expensive toys. Surely if there had been financial trouble, those would have been sold off first.

What kind of Neopian would throw out bills and letters addressed to her without even reading them?

Not an owner planning a holiday, or expecting a brief business trip. The kind of Neopian who, in her own mind at least, was already half-gone, and didn't expect to return.

Slipping a few of the letters into my coat pocket, I did my best to put everything else back the way I had found it. There was nothing more to be found in this deserted house, and it was time I stepped back and followed some different leads.

*

"This is all very irregular, I'll have you know."

I raised an eyebrow, and the Kau gave me a sideways look in response. "I'm an inspector of Neoschools, not some underworld spy," he went on. "I wouldn't be doing this for you at all if Lucky Angel hadn't vouched for you. If I ever find out you've been using this stuff for something nefarious, I don't know what I'll—"

"Use this? I should be so lucky, Barthy." I threw down the folder in frustration. "This doesn't make any _sense_. You say you brought all the records you could find relating to the classes in school this year, and there's plenty of material here, sure. It must mention every pet and owner that's ever done so much as chase a fly off the front steps of the school. Except two. Lyricalised, and any pet named Dazzle anything."

"I'm sure it's just an oversight," Bartholomew began.

"Are you? 'Cause I'm not. Not when Buzz-Extra Insurance have been sending out monthly bills to a customer who doesn't exist on their records. Or when the Petpet Protection League apparently got a five thousand Neopoint donation last month from a bank account registered as belonging to Dr. Frank Sloth, of 1, The Control Deck, Virtupets Space Station. Did someone really think I wouldn't _notice_ all this?"

"Notice what?" The Kau was completely lost by now. "The fact that there isn't anything there?"

"Exactly." I sighed, pushing the papers back into the folder. "There's nothing there. And it's a Lyric-shaped nothing."

"I don't know much about detective work," Bartholomew mused, scooping the folder off the ground, "but something tells me that your client won't exactly be happy with a nothing, however it's shaped."

I groaned. "Thanks for reminding me."

*

"What do you _mean_, she's gone?"

I had braced myself for this moment, but it was still frightening. The Nimmo stared me down with eyes like laser beams, and it was all I could do not to hide under the desk.

"I mean, she's vanished seemingly without trace," I repeated, staring at my footpaws. "I'm sorry, but there simply isn't any evidence. At best, I can prove that there _was _a Lyricalised at some point. I know where she lived, and a little about her home life. But as for where she is now… I wouldn't know where to start. And if you want my professional opinion, there's not a detective in Neopia Central that would tell you anything different on the information you gave me."

"The fact that every detective in Neopia Central fails at his or her job is no concern of mine," the Nimmo snapped. "I gave you a task. Any detective worthy of the name would have completed it. Surely it cannot be _hard _to find a human?"

"_A _human? Not at all." I nodded agreement. "This _particular _human? If you ask me, there's something out of the ordinary going on. And I _don't _get involved with the supernatural. That just isn't my territory. When pets start using magic where it doesn't belong, that's when I back off and leave it to the conjurers and Faeries."

"I don't care if she's being concealed by the natural, the supernatural or a Quiggle with an invisibility cape," was the sharp retort. "I asked you to find Lyric."

_And that's the other question I have yet to answer, _I added silently. _Why? Why would you come out of nowhere, looking for a human who can't be found, and attaching so much to the search? What is it that makes this… this Lyric so special?_

"I hope you don't expect payment," the Nimmo told me scornfully. "I should have known better than to trust this to you. What's that old saying, again? If you want something done properly, do it yourself."

With a final sweep of her elegant wings, she was gone. The door slammed behind her, making me shiver slightly. I was sorry to see the prospect of money vanish, but the realisation that I'd probably never see her again was almost worth it.

Before I went home, though, there was one more thing to settle.

*

The black-haired girl listened to what I had to tell her without any apparent surprise. Halfway through, she offered me a peppermint from the paper bag she was carrying. I noticed it was the only thing she'd brought to my office, which was unusual. Most clients tended to bring anything and everything they thought was relevant, but this girl wasn't carrying a thing other than the bag of sweets, and some curved object or other that was making a bulge in her left-hand pocket.

"Thank you for your time," she said quietly. "You've been very helpful."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do what you wanted." I really was sorry; she seemed tired all of a sudden, and something about her seemed to radiate kindness—though perhaps I was comparing her too favourably to my previous client. It wouldn't be hard. Glancing down at my notes, I made one last brave attempt to decipher her name amongst the scribbles.

"It's all right. I didn't expect you to find anything, if I'm honest." She popped a peppermint into her own mouth. "I'll have the bill paid by tomorrow. How much do I owe you?"

"You don't owe me anything." I wondered if I should tell her that I had carried out the exact same assignment for another client, who hadn't paid me either. But my promises of confidentiality weren't meant to be for show. "This one's on the house, um… Charmaine?"

"Charmeir," she supplied, and for one strange moment, she looked regretful. "Thank you."

The door to the stairway clicked closed, and I began packing up my things for the day. It was anyone's guess what would be left for dinner and frankly I didn't care. With the desk shoved into some kind of order, I padded over to turn out the lamp.

My paw hovered over the switch.

Slowly, almost as if I was afraid of being caught in the act, I opened a new folder from the shelf next to my desk. I slipped the pictures and the Nimmo's notebook into it.

On the cover I wrote: _Lyric._

Every once in a while, there's something you just can't leave alone.


	3. Broken Pattern

**Broken Lyric:  
Broken Pattern**

_**Kel**_

The noise of the struggle filled the corridors. Grumpy pets around me woke from their sleep as the screams and stamping of hooves became too loud to ignore. I carried my broom over one arm as I did my best not to notice. This had happened for five days now, and it looked like early morning wake-up calls were going to become a fixture.

"Sweetheart, please calm down!" I could hear Rose's voice raised above the clatter. "We promise you, this man is perfectly lovely. He's adopted pets from us before. He'll give you a good home, isn't that right?"

"_No!_" The little girl's sharp voice seemed to cut through the everyday noise of the Pound. "I'm not going with him! I'm not going! I'm not going! I'm staying here until my owner comes back!"

"Preciousling…" Rose did her best to break the truth gently, in the hope that this time it would stick. "Your old owner can't take care of you any more. She left you here so we could find you a new place to live."

"It was a _mistake!_" Another thunder of hooves on the floor. "I can't ever have another owner! I'm going back to my real owner! _I want Lyric!_"

I got on with the sweeping. I had a plan for the day, and the delusional kid in Room 21 wasn't going to alter that.

After a while, I noticed the noise had faded. Rose hurried out across the corridors, clipboard clutched to her chest. "Oh dear, oh my… I'm behind with the morning check-up…"

"Good morning, Rose!" I called, leaning on my broom. "Need a hand?"

"Oh, Kel!" She stopped, flustered. "I didn't see you there. Thanks for doing the sweeping, you're a good soul."

"No problem, Rose. Did you sort that kid out?"

"She got so tired out throwing a tantrum, she fell asleep. Again." Rose sighed gently. "Why is it always the pretty ones that are high-maintenance?"

"She's never going to get placed if she keeps that up," I reflected. "But then, maybe it's intentional. Maybe she doesn't _want _to get placed. After all, she still thinks her old owner is going to come back for her. Wouldn't you want to stay here, if you thought someone was coming for you?"

"We're going to have to find some way of convincing her." Rose shook her head sadly. "It's not right, having a pet stay here indefinitely. Especially not one that young. She should be out in the world, enjoying herself…"

"You have to resent her owner, don't you." I brushed a few stray Yurble hairs off the floor absently. "I can't imagine who'd do that to a little girl."

*

It had started out as an ordinary morning. But as I finished the last of the sweeping, there were footsteps at the end of my corridor. Not Rosiebel's tripping hooves or Dr. Death's patient, half-slithering talons. Slow footsteps in rubber-soled trainers. I straightened my fringe a little, and did my best to look presentable.

A slim, black-haired young woman came round the corner, slouching a little as if she was tired and trying not to show it. As she caught sight of me, she gave a quick half-smile. "Good morning."

"Mornin'." I smiled back. "You look a bit stressed. Are you all right?"

"I'm all right." The words came out in a rush, before I'd even finished asking the question, and with far more force than I'd have expected. "I'm just sick of looking for the right Neopet. This sort of thing… really takes it out of me, I guess you'd say."

I nodded. "Isn't it funny how some people can just walk in and see the pet of their dreams straight away? If you want to hang around and chat with me, though, I don't mind taking a few minutes. Not like I have much else to do."

"So… you must be a resident here, right?" I saw her face change a little to take on that extra note of sympathy people always felt when they realised I wasn't one of the paid-up staff. She was probably already trying to guess at my history, how a cute Island Zafara could possibly have ended up here. "What's your name?"

"Kel," I told her. "Kelleigh Lorne."

"I'm…" For a moment, there was a slight flicker of something in her eyes, something I couldn't figure out. "…I'm Charmeir. Pleased to meet you, Kelleigh."

"So, you having trouble picking a pet?" I asked, and propped my broom against the wall. "I've been here a while. I can probably point out someone. What're you looking for?"

"Thanks." She sighed softly. "But I don't think you can help. This is something I have to try and figure out on my--"

The sudden silence made me jump.

"Miss Charmeir?" I looked across at her. "You OK?"

"Sure. Yeah." The girl raised a hand to her forehead. "I… just had a dizzy spell. Something like that."

"Oh, OK." I nodded. "You really oughta see Dr. Gelert if that keeps happening. He comes and checks us over here, I'm sure he'd stick a thermometer in your ear or whatever it is they do to see if humans are ill."

There was a moment of quiet. A few corridors away, I could hear Dr. Death shouting at an owner about how he didn't care if she was Queen Fyora on a bicycle, no-one was allowed to disown more than one pet a day. Outside, a Beekadoodle was singing somewhere far off.

"Kelleigh?" She turned back to me. "You say you've been here a long time? That surprises me. A pretty girl like you, an Island Zafara? I would have thought you'd be adopted straight away."

"Just the way it goes, I guess." I shrugged. "You want some coffee? I can probably get you some."

"How would you like me to get you out of here, Kelleigh?"

I stopped dead. The broom handle hit the floor, loud enough to startle pets all the way down the corridor.

"Get me out? You mean… you're really going to adopt me?"

"Sure." She smiled at me, and I felt the world begin to light up. "I'm looking for a pet, and I guess you fit the bill. Only if you want to, of course."

"I… I want to." I returned her smile, and held out my trembling paws. "I really do!"

"Then let's go!" Suddenly, as if she didn't want to hesitate for a moment, she scooped me up in her arms and sprinted towards the front desk.

"Why, Kel!" Having me shoved in his face by an enthusiastic owner, Dr. Death couldn't possibly have failed to notice my presence. "What in the world is going on here?"

"I'm getting adopted," I told him, before Charmeir could say anything. "Please sign me out!"

"Adopted?" Rose hurried in from the backroom. "Kel, how wonderful! I never thought today would be your day." With a squiggle of her pen, she handed over the form. "I don't imagine we'll ever see you again, but… good luck!"

It had happened. No hitches, no worries, no sudden last-minute problems. The form was in Charmeir's hand, and I was resting on her shoulders. We were… going home. Really going home. I had finally found an owner who would love me for everything I was.

The pets in the Pound wouldn't even remember me tomorrow. Even Dr. Death and Rose would probably have forgotten me by the end of the week. I didn't care.

*

The plains of Tyrannia were the last place I had expected the thoroughly modern Charmeir, in her denim and trainers, to lead me. I had to keep reminding myself that this was a country of pets and owners, just like Neopia Central, and not some kind of live history museum for me to gawk at. Mind you, now that I was safely out of the Pound, I was being stared at considerably myself by the pets nearby. I guessed they didn't get many Island-painted pets up here.

We walked across copper-coloured flatlands, with young Pteridactyls and Petpets wandering across our path, until we came to a small Neohome built in the sheltering shadow of a cliff. A simple silver key unlocked the door, and I stepped inside. The elegant furniture and fluffy rugs seemed to gleam as I looked at them.

"So this is your home?" I looked around. Charmeir had struck me as a tidy owner, but not the kind of neat-freak who would own such a pristine place in such a chaotic world.

"I just bought it," she shrugged, by way of explanation. "I felt like a fresh start. Builders moved my furniture in while I was staying at the Neolodge."

So that was it. I lifted up my paws carefully, unwilling to get any of Tyrannia's brown dust on the polished floor. She set down her bags nearby, and lifted out a glossy fur brush and a white leather jacket.

"I bought these a few days ago," she smiled. "I bet you'd look really pretty in this, Kelleigh. Those Pound staff really don't know how to bring out a pet's appearance."

"You can call me Kel," I said absently, unable for a moment to take my eyes off the jacket. I had been disowned long before the recent craze for tailor-made clothing had taken off, but I could tell that it was an expensive item, woven with enchanted fabric so it would fit any pet, no matter what shape and size. I had to admit, I liked the look of it; stylish, simple and not _too_ girly. The colour matched the swirls on my fur as I draped it slowly over my shoulders. "Everyone does."

"Only if you call me Charmeir. Start any of that 'Mistress' or 'Owner' business and you're out on your ear, understand?" I glanced up to see if she was serious, but saw the laughter in her eyes.

"Your room's going to be upstairs. I figured you might be one of those tomboy girls who can't stand pink, so I had it painted pale blue for now, just until you decide what you want in there. Is that OK with you?"

"More than okay," I told her happily. No-one had ever asked me what colour I preferred my bedroom before, or considered that I might have any ideas.

"I'm afraid I can't get you a Petpet until I've done some reading up to see what's suitable around here," she said, in what was altogether too apologetic a tone. "Hope it won't be too lonely for you, being at home here with just me. I'm a one-pet girl."

There it was again. Something strange in the way she said the words. Call it a flicker of instinct, if you like. I quit fiddling with the zip on my jacket, and took hold of her hand with one paw.

"Hey, um, Charmeir? You said you've been around Neopia a while. Did you… I mean, you didn't have any pets in all that time?"

She looked straight back into my eyes, which surprised me. I'd seen a few owners in the Pound who'd assumed they didn't have to tell me the truth. They always stared at the ceiling or at my feet.

"I had one," she said, and the darkness cleared from her eyes. "But he moved out to Mystery Island a few months back. Don't worry, Kel. I'm not one of those maniacs from the Neopian Times stories who throw away pets like Usuki dolls."

"I never thought… I mean, I…" The protests sounded weak, and I knew it. How could I have had the nerve to mistrust my new owner, the one who was already making such great plans to take care of me? "Look… forget I said anything, Charmeir. You want to come up and show me my new room?"

*

There are some things that you think you will never have to experience again when you leave the Pound. For the most part, the assumption's correct. No more Spyder webs on the ceiling (unless, that is, your new owner lives in the Haunted Woods), no more watching half a dozen useless escape attempts every week, no more medical checkups with Dr. Death jamming a thermometer halfway down your throat. All of that disappears into the past when you're adopted. But some things turn up in the weirdest of circumstances, just when you'd expected to leave them behind.

The noise in the dark woke me from a dreamless sleep. I turned over restlessly. Must be the Room 21 kid again. Why wasn't Rose calming her down already?

Rose… no, that wasn't right. Rose… wasn't here any more. The kid wasn't here any more. …Because I had been adopted. That was right. So what was I hearing?

A moment of terror chilled me to the bone as I thought of an explanation. Charmeir hated me already. She'd realised what taking care of me actually involved. I'd been carried back to the Pound and disowned in my sleep. Was that it? But as I slowly came more awake, I realised I was still tucked up in soft sheets, with my jacket hung over the end of the bed. I hadn't left my bedroom. So the noise must be…

I pulled on the jacket and crept out of the room. Perhaps the sound was coming from a toy, or even a Petpet. Charmeir had said she hadn't bought me one yet, but there might be a stray Mazzew or something outside. With a twitch of one ear, I tried hard to locate what I was hearing, and came to a strange realisation.

The door to Charmeir's bedroom wasn't locked. I turned the handle, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

My new owner was lying on her bed, the covers pulled up tight. Her eyes were closed, and she didn't seem to know I was there, but I could hear her sobbing uncontrollably, and there were tear-marks on the pillow she was clutching.

"Charmeir…?"

She didn't react. Now I could tell she was asleep. The sobs grew louder and sharper as I watched, until her whole body was shaking. I couldn't believe I was standing and watching her suffer. This had to _stop—_

"CHARMEIR!"

A bolt of lightning flashed outside the open window, so close that I could almost taste the sudden electricity in the air. The thunderclap that followed it shook the house from roof to floor, and a torrent of raindrops, as large and glittering as gemstones, poured in at the window. Charmeir sat bolt upright in bed, wide awake at once.

"K-Kel?" She spluttered as the rain caught her in the face. "What…?"

"It's a thunderstorm!" I ran to the window and slammed it shut. "You should have seen the lightning a second ago!"

"A thunderstorm…" My owner hesitated, as if she was trying to remember something, then shook her head. "I didn't expect _that_. What time… is it?"

"Half past three." I passed her a towel from among the clean laundry, and she dabbed her face dry with it. "Can I stay in here with you until it stops? It's not like I'm _afraid… _'course not. I just can't sleep with that going on out there."

"Of course you can stay, Kel." Charmeir finished drying herself down and handed me the towel. "I had some idea tonight was going to be a little strange for you, even _without _crazy weather. It's always a little odd sleeping in a new place."

I settled down on top of the bedcovers and wondered if I should say anything. Surely the problem had been solved. Charmeir wasn't crying any more. But still…

"Charmeir," I began, slowly. "I thought… I heard someone crying just before, and there's only the two of us here. Are you all right?"

"I'm all right!" Again, the words came out so fast they seemed to tumble over each other. "I'm sorry to have worried you, Kel. I must have been having some kind of bad dream. I can't really remember it now."

"Just as long as you're OK." After a moment of thought, I decided I dared to hug her forearm as it lay on top of the blanket. "I don't want you to have nightmares, Charmeir."

"Of course not." She stroked my fur gently with her other hand. "I'm the one who needs to be looking after you right now, my little Kelleigh."

As the storm raged outside, I curled up next to Charmeir and felt her warm arms around me. I knew I'd probably fall asleep here, and that was a good thing. I had only known this girl for less than a day, but something about her was telling me that she wasn't quite as strong as she had seemed. It made me want to protect her, even if I didn't know what a human could possibly need protecting from. For now, I could sleep a little better knowing that Charmeir would have someone real to hold onto if the nightmares came back.

*

For a pet who's never known anything but the owner who created it, maybe a bright sunny morning is just a bright sunny morning. When you've just been adopted from the Pound, the sunlight streaming through the window is beautiful. It's the first day of the rest of your life.

I woke up still lying on Charmeir's bed, with the sun's rays warm against my fur. There was no sign of my owner in the room, but as I padded downstairs, she caught sight of me from the next room and waved. "Good morning, Kel. I thought I'd try out my new kitchen today. After all, we can't eat shop-bought pizza _every _night."

Breakfast was good, and she didn't mention anything about the night before. It seemed the nightmares had disappeared by morning, after all.

"Let's go out, Kel." Charmeir pulled on her jumper. "The schools out here aren't anything like Neopia Central's, I'm afraid, but you need to be learning from _someone._"

I froze. "School…? Ch-Charmeir…" There was a sudden lump in my throat as I stared at my feet. "I'm… not sure I'm ready… couldn't you…?"

"Oh, Kel!" She lifted me up in her arms, hugging me tightly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realise it would bring back bad memories. All right. You can stay with me for the time being, and I'll teach you at home." She hesitated. "But do you mind me calling in private tutors for a couple of things?"

"Like what?" I was puzzled.

"Well…" She shuffled her feet. "I was thinking… Kel, how would you feel about studying magic? Nothing heavy and Battledome-like. Just a few simple things about spells and charms, and how to use them to help others. Of course, if you don't take to it we can drop it in a few weeks…"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She wanted me to learn _magic? _"I… I'm okay with that," I managed.

"That's brilliant." Her smile was brighter than the sunshine. "I'll make arrangements for that right away. We need to get to know the neighbours, in any case. If you'll help me, I can bake a cake and we can take some round to anyone who's home. I don't know how Tyrannia is off for flowers, but we can try…"

I smiled. It looked like my first full day with my new owner was going to be a good one.

*

The day passed in a bit of a whirl. Between giving out cake and random Tyrannian plants, picking out furnishings for my room from the Neohome Superstore catalogue, and discussing class times with the magic tutor, an elderly Flotsam in glasses, I didn't have a minute to be bored. I was a world and a half away from the pattern my life had fallen into, where doing nothing was a simple fact most of the time.

Every so often, I would tug on my own fur just to check that I could feel it. Somewhere inside, I still expected I was going to wake up in the half-light of the Pound's corridors, and find out that there had never been any such person as Charmeir. Slowly, though, it was sinking in that this wasn't a dream. My happy ending was real, the kind I had thought only existed in stories. I knew that sometime when I felt a little braver, I would have to go back to the Pound and tell the downcast pets that there was such a thing as the perfect new owner after all.

It was only early evening, but I was already tired out. I pulled the bedroom curtains closed and snuggled into bed.

The door was still half-open, and out on the landing I could hear Charmeir shuffling clothes and papers. I opened one weary eye. "Where are you going?" I asked, sleepily.

"Neopia Central," she said. "Don't worry. I'll be back before morning. I'm not going to leave you to get your own breakfast."

I trusted her. "What're you doing there?"

"There's someone I have to see," she told me, as she pinned up her soft black hair. "I met him a couple of days ago, and I want to see if he's got anything to show me."

"You're going to Neopia Central with another human? One of the neighbours?" I felt confident making new friends if I knew Charmeir was going to be there. "Can't you go tomorrow, and I'll come too?"

"No, he's not a human." She slipped a shawl over her shoulders, and hesitated over papers and belongings before picking up a single small paper bag. "He's a Xweetok. An investigator of sorts. Don't worry about it, my girl. It's just some dull business, and you'll hardly even know I'm gone."

"An investigator, Charmeir?" I was barely awake enough to think, but the words struck me as curious. "Is there something you need to find?"

"No." She smiled and pushed the door closed, and I strained to hear her voice as she crossed the hallway. "Someone I need to lose."

I didn't have time to think about her words before I fell asleep.


End file.
